Dying on Stage at Garrick ... a Shameless Self-Promotion, Augustus Tomb Esq.

Oh my God! Another shameless bloody self-promotion. But why not? After all, why should that Grim prick, or that Watkins fop steal all the footlights, not to mention the hate-mail, all of which puts bums on seats. Way back in the 1960s. PJ.Proby, he of the glorious voice (he started work down Memphis way as Presley's demo singer) regularly had the stitching unpicked in the crotch of his velvet stage pants, (now there’s a velvet underground … for anybody looking for a walk on the wild side!). Headlines were guaranteed the next day. Brilliant marketing, unlike Morrison, the old trouser snake stayed hidden, but the headlines still screamed “Obscenity!”

 

I briefly considered following the afore-mentioned Proby Marketing strategy when offered the minor - oh how it hurts to use that vile word! - role of Augustus Tomb, in Lynne Devenish’s production of Tiptoe Through The Tombstones at Garrick Theatre in Guildford. Why?, well, the others can all act, I would be lost on stage, usurped by proper thespians, therefore any device that would swing audience attention to me, in terms of stage presence, would be necessary. Sadly, a candid inspection in the bathroom mirror, in the cold light of day, convinced me that I simply did not have the body or equipment to compete with either of the Jims, the stitches would remain intact.

But rescue was on the way, Mrs Devenish handed me a new actors hand book, Hamming it for Porky Old Blokes, (there are Kosher and Hallal versions for our Jewish and Muslim friends). Saved. So much so, some were heard to mention on opening night, that I looked rather like Sean Connery. “What a great book, “I preened, “Augustus should have a kilt.”

Grim hit the roof, “Keep away from ma wee Bannockburn,” he cried, “ I’ll cut ya willie off at the pass, (see velvet underground above), if ya try it laddie!” Mrs Devenish was also emphatic, “Plus 4s and riding boots, try a kilt and I’ll let Grim in!” Like Gussie, I didn’t have the balls to fight!

And so, at last, (I told you this was shameless self-promotion), we get to Tip Toe Through The Tombstones and the real actors.

It’s a sort of Adams Family meets Agatha Christie meets Are You Being Served, mad, British, full of stereotypes and very funny, giving everyone  the opportunity to break rules, ham it up and jump right over the top.

Rob Whitehead has a gay old time as Vernon, very fetching in pink and the red hat has to be seen to be believed, Jenny Bowman's servant girl Edna is a down-trodden treat, with an end-game Cinderella touch. Kath Jones as Zoe presents us with the ultimate ruthless secretary – Cat Stevens wrote a song about this character years ago .. “I’m looking for a hard headed woman …” Mind you, the fetish brigade may find this character quite luscious! Don Callison as Mortimer, is insinuatingly, creepily evil and Veronica Fourie as Octavia just has to be seen to be believed. Glorious. Indeed, the Porsche driving Octavia  is so obsessed, she brings to mind that old joke about the new Porsche model – it’s being released with only one seat, (the driver’s) as the bastards have got no friends. Think about it, apart from “Gentleman Jim” Richards, can you think of a Porsche driver who isn’t a pretentious, arrogant wanker?. Henrietta, played to perfection by Helen Hopper, is a misunderstood soul, her bark is far worse than her bite – sort of reminiscent of the Chinese ladies swimming team members at Beatty Park some years back.  Shirley Toohey's gentle, refined Athene is such a lovely little killer, straight out of Sunday School, with a dark secret, how she puts up with that dreadful Augustus, I really can’t imagine. Then there’s Rod van Gronigen aka Larry. A masterful display of the craft of clowning, the audience think he’s a horn-bag … and he’s not backward in blowing it. A very risqué performance, with flashes of … gulp … near nudity! I won’t have it! I simply won’t have it! Too much more and I’ll throw in the towel! Which is probably what you’re thinking as you read through this nonsense.

And last, but dear God, by no means least, there is Michelle Acott – well, her alter-ego Fabia. Fabia has to be both seen and heard to be believed. A sort of Irma la Douce character, who doesn’t need saving. Watching Larry suffocate under her heaving bosom is a highlight. This is a woman at the heights of her powers of attraction and sexuality, with a killer personality. God knows how the demure, sensitive Michelle found out about such women! Come to think of it, how do I know?

So there you have it, step right up folks, don’t miss it, all the fun of the graveyard, as things go bang in the night – quite often at the wrong time – was that  gun I heard?

You are kindly invited to Monument House, over Garrick Theatre way, to enjoy the company of the Tombs. There’s a matinee today (Sunday 5^th  April at 2.00pm), and it’s on during Easter (Thursday, Friday and Saturday nights), with the following week as the final, (Thursday, Friday and Saturday), you can book on: 9379 9400 from 9.00am – 4.00pm Monday – Sunday).

As a post-script, we received a marvellous and very much appreciated “Best Wishes” card on Friday night, from the English based playwright, Norman Robbins. A lovely touch and something I’ve never struck before. If I can post the photo of the card, I’ll do so, but it will be up with the cast photos at the theatre.

All Good Things

Greg